


Couldn't Help It

by I_Make_Questionable_Choices



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Make_Questionable_Choices/pseuds/I_Make_Questionable_Choices
Summary: Despite the age gap, the reader and Dean can’t help but love each other, no matter what.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	Couldn't Help It

**Author's Note:**

> Request: Do you think you could possibly write a Dean Winchester x female! reader where she is 18/19 and she is insecure because she’s younger, then they get cuddly and fluffy? Sorry if this is weird 🥺
> 
> A/N: So, this is long overdue, I got this request like two months ago and I am SO SO sorry for keeping you waiting. I know I originally said I wanted to write something light and fluffy, and there is fluff at the end, but it kinda took on a life of it’s own…  
> image

You knew your relationship was unorthodox, he was a whole ten years older than you for goodness sake. But you couldn’t help it, neither of you could.

It was only meant to be a one-night stand, but the angels on Micheals side had been growing desperate in their attempts to get the righteous man to say yes, and so, they had turned on you. It didn’t matter to them what your relationship was, so long as you had one it was enough, it had very nearly been enough for Dean.

Had it not been for Castiel’s impeccable timing that night, Dean, who could not bear to have an innocents death on his soul, would have undoubtedly said yes to Michael. The four of you had barely gotten out of there by the skins of your teeth.

Determined to avoid another scenario like that, the boys had taken you along with them, leaving you with Bobby most of the time, but still keeping you safe.

And in the end, you were the one there for him.

You were there for him when he turned away from Lisa, the changes to a so-called normal life to unnatural for the seasoned hunter. You sat by him as he mourned for Sam, distracting him from his pain.

You knew it was cliche, it could have been the plot of a movie for goodness sake. But you couldn’t help it, neither of you could.

It started out small, a reassuring squeeze of a hand, a small kiss on the forehead after a particularly tough hunt, gestures so soft no one batted an eye.

Slowly those touches became more frequent, those kisses lingering on cheeks, then lips.

There were small moments of doubt about your difference in age, but those that mattered didn’t seem to care. Bobby had hardly batted an eye when he found the two of you sharing a heated moment in his guest room, merely telling the two of you that dinner was on the table.

But it couldn’t stay perfect, of course.

When Sam came back, not even he knew his soul was gone, but that didn’t make the comments hurt any less.

More than once he had scolded Dean for showing his affection in public, whining that he didn’t feel like bailing Dean out of jail should he be arrested for having relations with a minor; regardless if you weren’t, in fact, underage.

You knew you shouldn’t feel so hurt, he didn’t have a soul for goodness sake. But you couldn’t help it, neither of you could.

You had drifted apart during those months, on more than once you had took to sleeping on the couch during hunts.

When Sam got his soul back you could tell he was regretful, you could feel his awkwardness whenever you and Dean spoke, your clinical words hiding your sorrows. He had tried, on more than one occasion, to apologize, only for either of you to tell him not to stress and that your relationship was fine.

But everyone noticed.  
Bobby, Sam, Cas, hell, even Crowley noticed, but both of you continued to deny their words, assuring them that your relationship, whatever it had been reduced to, was fine.

When he got blasted to purgatory, your world shattered.

At first you could barely leave your bed, refusing to eat, failing to sleep, and barely talking. You had lost thirty pounds in but a month before you got back on your feet.

After your breakdown, you threw yourself back into hunting, chasing down steadily more vicious monsters with steadily less regard for your own health. When Sam told you he wanted to settle down with Amelia, you had snapped; cursing him to hell for giving up on his brother.

You knew he had a point, no human had ever entered Purgatory before, let alone escaped for goodness sake. But you couldn’t help it, how could you?

When you weren’t hunting, you were researching, trying everything from spells, to pleading demons for deals.

Nothing worked.

As months passed, you grew increasingly desperate. There were bags under your eyes from going days without sleep, and you ate barely enough to keep you going. The lack of food combined with the brutal work of hunting meant you lost weight at an even faster pace than before.

You were but skin and bones.

With the lack of food and sleep came a lack of energy, and you had to drag yourself around to hunts. Hardly daring to try and consult people in your state, no professional would look like you.

Instead, you ran in head first; with but a guess as to what monster you were facing. You weren’t sure you cared if you died anymore.

Until one time, you almost did. The demon had had little trouble with you, throwing you around the room until your head hit the concrete floor of the warehouse with a sickening crack.

You thought of Dean before you blacked out.

When you finally came to, wrapped in blankets in a warm bed, you thought, for a moment that you were in heaven.

But the room was too clinical for it to be your heaven, too empty.

When the door clicked open softly and you tensed, waiting for the intruder to come in, ready for whoever took you to taunt, and tease, and beat you.

You didn’t expect green eyes to widen at the sight of you, for the glass he was carrying to shatter against the floor.

But it happened.

His approach was slow, as if you were a frightened rabbit, ready to run a a breaths notice; you felt like one anyways.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he approached, barely daring to breath as he took a knee beside the bed.

“Hey sweetheart,”

Your hand, trembling with emotion, reached tentatively towards him, and he leaned into your touch.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart, it’s me,” you could see the tears gathering in his eyes, tears mimicked in your own.

Where your newfound strength came from you would question later. You launched yourself towards him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him with all your might.

There was no stopping the tears as he returned the kiss, matching passion for passion.

You knew all wasn’t back to normal, you hadn’t seen each other in nearly two years for goodness sake. But you couldn’t help it, neither of you could.


End file.
